Journal of the Orator - The Anunnaki Tales
by SubjectHazard
Summary: Entries of the mysterious Orator regarding the beginning of time and the story of the Anunnaki - a race of Goa'uld that disappeared from history, yet left a mystic legacy. This is the beginning of a series of entries depicting various stories. Crossover universes include: Assassin's Creed, Stargate, and Myst/Riven. Named characters are from Sumerian mythology.
1. The Dawning

**Author's note**: The first three chapters are 'information dumps' that tie together parts of the Myst, Assassin's Creed, and Stargate continuities. The entries are meant to be written in a way players of the Myst games should be familiar with (provided they've read the in-game journals). Chapters four and beyond will be more story-oriented, with the occasional break for one of the narrator's entries.

I'm hoping to bring in more familiar characters soon, but one thing at a time - this tale is rather extensive, so it's important to buff out the specifics of the setting (and especially the history) first.

* * *

How long has it been? Hundreds... no, thousands of years? All time seems to be trickling into the infinite. When will it end?

This journey through the endless cycle is beginning to take its toll on me. Even when I believe that I've found absolution, I receive nothing but dissatisfaction. Can there be no end? Is there a purpose to my wanderings?

I suppose it would be best to start from the beginning. Not my beginning, but the beginning of all. I couldn't begin to fathom the void at the inception of time. All I am certain of is that there was, is, and will be one for every age. I cannot escape it, just as it cannot escape itself. The chaos it perpetuates may be nothing more than an illusion - yet it gave birth to hope. Our existence was written into an age by that of an idea. What that idea was could hardly be considered a comforting notion; yet in its masquerade, a copious variety of minds rest peacefully within its haunting cradle.

Perhaps it was that realization that led me to question this path set before me. All choose their own paths - but it is the idea that binds us to them. It is the 'ego': weighed to be an inevitable consequence of nature, this facet of the psyche - the innermost self - was destined to be the end and the beginning. From this, a mind was cleft from the eternal ether, fashioned into its mortal state, and bound to a particular soul. Pride, the ineludible fallout of the ego, bound us to a fate worse than death: we are the mere playthings of a presence - or a multitude of them - we cannot understand. Be that as it may, they could not endure in any form without us; for you see -

We created them: not gods, which may well exist in a realm beyond ours, but the ubiquitous intelligence(s) that ensnare us in a web of order. The universe, forged from the very chaos that spawned the disjointed harmony that is time, became the stage for their venture - and I may never know what its/their ultimate motive is to be. All the same, I have never been more certain of anything in my life: we have become trapped here, and our tyrant(s) from a rapturous domain have seduced us with the ego. Just as we revered it/them, has/have it/they venerated us? Unlike true gods, these stand upon our shoulders - yet we are evenly bound to them.

How can we free ourselves without unraveling the fabric of being - not to perish, but to no longer exist? What would be the absolute ramification of this final, critical act?

The days have passed, and yet I am still in awe of this one, inexorable fact: we are thespians in an apologue of cataclysm. Our egos are merely the catalysts; it is our indescribable host(s) that pull(s) the strings. For every fallacy of order, there lies the infinite shadow that binds us all, never to falter or cease in its pursuits. Beyond this, however, lies an even more untenable vacuity from which this cage was forged.

As I peered into the shrouded past, I became aware of others: entire species created at the dawn of essence - fragments of the living embodiment of infinite cast out into the universe without choice nor virtue. They became celestial bodies - the suns, the nebulae, the black holes, each given life, of a sort, at the very apex of creation. In short time, galaxies were born, and new life was animated with every sigh of the stars. Not all mortal life was born explicitly of the immediate heavens, but that was how much began. The means to establish more life was planted by these suns of heaven, and they the tools to cultivate entire civilizations.

Light and darkness - good and evil: they do not exist in tangible form, yet we see a disparity in thought among the peoples of the worlds. I believe this can be explained by the totality of that nucleus which lies between the dominions of chaos and order. I know that the entity/entities that exist within this expanse contain(s) the very root of substance: the ego. Therein lies the impetus for chaos among order, and perhaps order among chaos. The diversity of this universal soup was given form by the same ego that tether us to a narrow existence. The most fundamental choice we have is not one of good or evil, order or chaos - it is whether to exist or not to exist.

Enough of my existential rambling, however. I merely aspired to bring forward a viable perspective of meaning, not to provide the sole answer. As it is, I have been ensnared in this half-reality for too long, and I have lost all present sense of the first, physical realm. Let us move ahead, so that I may draw myself out of this onerous trance.

A long time ago, there existed a species calling themselves 'Alterans'. When I last found myself on the shores of Terra, I learned that the word bore a new term in that age: Atlantian. They were far from the first to inhabit the universe, but they may be the most pertinent to its theoretical end. From one side of eternity to another, creatures of grey skin and piercing eyes set forth the task of creating these wonders of genetic engineering. The first of their Atlantian creations was naught but a girl brought from a time beyond this one. They gave her a world and sought to expand her being into an entire race. When they were done, these specters of the outer void permeated every corner of existence, confused and without purpose. If only they had the one element that is still bountiful in every mind here - an ego - they would have tasked themselves to the venture of escape.

Unfortunately, that would not be the case. The only ones capable of traversing the borders of this riven in continuity were now slaves to their shadows, bound like us to the design of reality.

In the meantime, the Alterans faced a civil war. A schism between faith and science divided their people, and those that believed in science left their galaxy to seed others. Eventually, their domain would expand to include the Milky Way and the Pegasus galaxies. Many began a process they called 'ascension', which brought them to a plane of existence similar to my own. From here, they protected the galaxies that had been host to them for many millennia, but they did not interfere with the development of life in these systems.

The grey ones, in the meantime, sired many new forms of life in other galaxies. Their progeny would vary, even across the ages. Some of these grey beings also began to settle, and their life tree would soon encompass a myriad of branches that differed depending on their chosen havens.

I fear my work here may seem too analogous to a treatise of faith, so I will make this clear: this is not a definitive work of any realm except the one I, and others, find ourselves in - trapped here by the merciless will of something some will later call a 'quantum intelligence'. Take my words as a warning, not a religion. My work may be found anywhere within or without the void, and I only hope it does not become intertwined with the affairs of either mortal or immortal.

All of this I have spoken of, however, leads to a story: my story, and the story of my people - a story I will make privy as soon as I find another moment of peace.

Penned,  
The Orator


	2. The Birth

In the haste of my last entry, I failed to mention many details. Yet, despite this, they are best left for a time when they are more vital. I cannot begin to write of every event that has ever happened in that tangible realm; as aware as I am to the affairs within, my conscious mind can only make sense of them one at a time. As I put pen to paper, thoughts materialize slowly, and I fear I may never be able to record everything I have seen.

For now, I will compel myself to write about this story that spreads through the tendrils of time. Perhaps then the universe will be at peace - unless it is no more.

Legends often embody the root of all civilizations: the values and traditions each society tends to advocate. My people were not exceptionally inimitable in this. From the time life came to our world, we were scattered and disorganized. There was no goal for our lives - no direction. The sole force that drove us was still beyond our reach. Not unlike the others in our universe, my people were enslaved to their own desires - their egos, which led them to perpetrate much violence and misery toward each other. That was not to say that our egos were not capable of good; rather, they were erratic and without certainty.

That all changed, according to legend, when our god, Yahvo, gave us the Art. Some believed he had created us to become the architects of a new realm - a universe beyond this one. Others merely believed this gift was meant for us, and only us. With the Art, it was possible to create entire worlds within worlds, and the most powerful writer could create completely new stars. This gave my people a certain arrogance that followed them for many millennia. With merely a pen or a brush, many of us could become creator 'deities' of a sort. Such was our arrogance that we believed ourselves to have the foresight and power to avoid all the pitfalls our egos would create.

None of us knew this, but our power was due in part to a spectacular event not long after the inception of life on our world - a world we knew as 'Gartarnay'. A star, of a sort, fell from the sky and caused a light that enveloped the entire world. When it was over, many had felt the warmth of the light embracing them, and there was not a single niche that had eluded it. The people found that the trees and the bushes were also affected by this portent - a marvel which drew upon the star's unique potential to wander the ephemeral firmament between these domains we call 'universes'. Learning of the language contained within the vibrant sphere, we began to write our first Ages: those worlds created by writers who inscribed the language onto the kortee'nea, or 'Descriptive Books'.

In essence, the very nature of our world had become one with the void - an existence perforated by the ethereal 'Star Fissure': an expanse that linked our world with others through the Art that pervaded our minor part of the cosmos. We became celestial architects from a time not long after the birth of our universe from an unsettled womb.

But we were not the sole people for whom the fate of the universe would one day reside.

Once upon a world, whose name was forgotten by time, a race of serpents emerged from the darkest depths of the sea. They developed into a breed of parasites which affixed themselves to the upper vertebrae and brain stems of reptilian beasts known as 'Unas'. Their social structure was as without direction as ours at the beginning of time, but they would come to have a puissant influence on a galaxy far from ours. At the onset of their history, however, they were no more capable of altering the course of their galaxy than they were of their own people. Conflict hindered any aspiration of solidarity, which is the only means of directing the attention of a people away from their divisive egos.

As had become prevalent during a time when the grey ones had become unwilling victims of the ineffable being(s) that endured beyond the boundaries of time and space, a light tumbled through the empty vacuum until it struck the parasite's world. Only one of their kind was able to locate it amid the murky, sodden swamps they thrived in. His tribe was one that would come to be known betwixt the clans of a world christened 'Terra'. The leech's alias was Anu - the incipient magnate of a dynasty known as the 'Anunnaki' on Terra. Being of an acumen far removed from the rest of his people, Anu was amply clever at ascertaining the medium by which the star vessel could wander the void.

Now armed with the comprehension that the craft required tremendous quantities of gold, which could be unearthed in paltry supply from many worlds, Anu and his kin set off on a campaign to plunder his world of all its gold. At the apex of his savage quest, another discovery was made: a portent of inevitable conquest that could only end in thousands of years of strife for the vanquished. It was known as the Chapa'ai: a mystic portal left by the Alterans as a means of settling many worlds. With this instrument of prompt deliverance from one world to another, the Anunnaki had access to new sources of gold - and, as a result, they wordlessly faded from the compass of their world's populace.

The star vessel Anu had been studying soon began to yield its secrets, and with them, the location of one world in particular: a primitive realm called Terra. Why this world was foremost in a database of millions is for another tale - a boundless and intricate legend that would take much to write. At first, Terra - or Earth, as it would later be known - was little more than another domain of Anu meant for gold mining; Unas were brought from their homeworld to begin collecting the rare and delicate material. A temple was built around the chapa'ai, which had settled on a mountain peak. Finally, within this temple and a set boundary surrounding it, an Anunnaki named 'Enki' began forming a lush environment.

So began a tale that had been buried with many others from a long time past - a narrative I will unveil from the perspectives of those involved. As you scrutinize the next few pages, be mindful of this single truth: every person, and every experience, is important. What I reveal may not seem to have any sway over the providence of actuality, but these events do lead to a conclusion that has concurrently been written and erased - and it is a genesis that has everything to do with where we are now.

Penned,  
The Orator


	3. The Conundrum

The data had been clear: the Alterans had ascended.

Inscribed within the ethereal pages of the Grey database was information on the Ancient Ones that had once devised a grand domain throughout the galaxy. As I have revealed in earlier entries, the Alterans ascended to a sphere of subsistence far removed from the corporeal form. Their spirits, or Atma, were as grown children that left home - free to roam the universe through an empyreal expanse. Unlike the omniscient life/lives within the space later christened 'hypertime', they were bound by the laws of time; and unlike the eternal star fissure through which both my people and the Grey travel, they were bound to this universe and all its cycles. They became known as 'Ancients'.

Perhaps, then, it was destined that they be exposed and used as the progenitors of a new race. In that first moment, as the Grey craft's proficiencies were drawn, the Goa'uld Anunnaki could discern the principle of ascension. No doubt they became enamored by the benefits of such a form, and they sought to control this enigmatic system of the universe. As they had learned, ascended beings resided in an existence enveloping many pockets within the fabric of time - not existing inside them, but living just beyond them. The ascended form would never deviate from an essential course toward the boundaries of those cancerous tumors we call 'hypertime'.

The inherent conundrum with the arcane physics in 'hypertime' was that these hollow cells did not have 'space' - merely ubiquitous essence untouched by our mortal realm. Despite this, borders were clearly delineated to the ascended - parameters outlined by the Grey's obscured gift to ply the neverending firmament that splits the innumerous macrocosms, which my people and I have forever called the 'star fissure'. With the aid of this exotic talent, Anu evoked an ascended Ancient into his midst - and seized it within a vile cage composed of that 'hypertime' of which I spoke. Not even the ascended could abscond from - much less, understand - this everlasting prison.

Oh, how he leered at his prize with such avarice, eyes aglow after his scheme had been accomplished. Yet his ultimate intent remained untested, as his captive remained just beyond his reach - the ascended lack materiality, and the Goa'uld were immured to an absolute stage of impermanence, much as their Unas hosts. Without a body to affix themselves to, the parasites would be unable to manage a host. However, the Ancients were far from invulnerable. It was only a matter of time before the host of Anu discovered a means of forcing the Ancient's form into a mortal state.

With his only hindrance vanquished, Anu abandoned his Unas host and invaded the Ancient's new body: reptilian jaw open, Anu stood before the lethargic figure of a young man in a majestic cloak, his bloodshot eyes affixed to the figure's back. The four-jawed head of the Goa'uld larva crept out from deep within the Unas' throat. With a single hiss, it sprung forward and perforated the skin, snake-like body thrashing about as it burrowed into the neck. Bloodless, the intrusion was still daunting to observe. When it was over, and the beast swathed itself around what passed as the Ancient's brain stem, it was in control.

As the Unas collapsed, the Ancient descended from the altar that had suspended its body in the air. Mere moments later, his eyes were bared to the world - and they flared with Anu's violent fury.

I do not know the inaugural cognomen of this Ancient before his time as Anu's victim, but I know what scores of Terrans would call him later: Jupiter. He would not be the first victim of the Anunnaki, whose neoteric devices could ensnare any of the ascended. Many became the unwitting thralls of these audacious malefactors. The repercussions would be regnant and pervasive among all Terrans in due time.

Hundreds of years later, and the pernicious form of Anu would deem Earth as his center of operations. In the derangement caused by his host, Anu instructed that the chapa'ai on his homeworld be submerged along with some of his ardent retainers. He did not yearn to see the contrivance unearthed by the others of his people. Of course, that did not mean he stopped using the mystic paradigm entirely. At the exhortation of Enki, the Anunnaki visited other worlds. Eventually, they would find a murky terrene congruous to their first haven, and colonize it: for you see, Earth was merely for onerous drudgery - it was this other world that became their true residence.

Then I espied what could only be construed as abject horror throughout the echelon of the ascended. One after another, the Ancients were ensnared by the Anunnaki - obliged to become chattel to each new generation of Goa'uld. Yet as their options for hosts increased, the populace of their Unas slaves was waning. The cunning one named Enki had contrived a manner of dominating the spirit of the average Unas, using the abstruse arts of the Grey chimeras. These devices - these Pieces of Eden - had become the cornerstone of the Anunnaki's fixed order, together with those devices planted within each mind. However, they had an unforeseen aftereffect on the rough beasts: the stagnant, inevitable adjournment of their entire gene pool.

This was when Enki first came under the perlustration of his overlord, Anu. In a crowning venture to save himself the contrition of execution, Enki agreed to collaborate with Enlil in a project of remarkable grandeur: the nascency of a species that would one day be called the Tau'ri. I would spare those who read these entries the details, and wish to once again express that this universe is but one of many - perchance it doesn't exist at all! Yet, this is what happened here. Terrans - humans - were created by these possessed Ancients.

But the creation did not occur without sacrifice. Intrigue plagued the Anunnaki Goa'uld, and the stories have been recorded - in some form or another - from the narrow perspective of the tau'ri. When Enki proposed to engineer a new species from the resources available to them, he realized that there would be a cost: the full genetic sequence of a sample species to draw from. That was when Enlil went to the council and persuaded them to slay their kinsman, Kingu - a close friend of Enki's since they were children. When they brought the body to him, Enki refused to use his perished colleague to actualize the necessary species.

Yet, with the persisting risk of eternal reticence bared on his shoulders, Enki finally acceded to the burden. The first of the Terrans were created: Adapa, otherwise known as Adam, and Eva, otherwise known as Eve. Enki remained devoted to his tau'ri creations, using them as prototypes in a much wider variety of the species. Perhaps Enki saw Kingu in each human being born of his work, as he would never feel close to any of his own people ever again. It could be argued that he had hoped his achievement would lead to the downfall of his people - and his revenge for Kingu's death.

I wish to expand upon Enki's story in my next entry, and perhaps continue weaving through the annals of history in that distant era. Much had happened, and it may be more beneficial to experience those days from the angle of those that had lived them. These distinct views, of a tale lost to time, should be seen as moving images upon the rich parchment of this journal. I have used the Art to bring these images to life, without complete substance - attempting to traverse the portal will merely end as a fruitless endeavor.

What I have seen could be no less than another trick of the virulent entity that has come to be our nameless foe - yet here I will write.

Penned,  
The Orator


	4. The Vengeance

Through the living image moving upon this page, you would see - and hear - the following:

A deep breath perforated the darkness, followed by a sigh of air.

Something began to glow amidst the shroud. The light was of the most genuine silver, peeking through the intricate lines etched into the surface of a half-sphere. This only source of brilliance was oddly embedded in the enclosed surface of a block or altar of some sort. What was most significant about it, however, was that it illuminated the face of the figure hovering behind it:

His face was elderly, and he wore not only a beard of white, but also an open, golden helmet that covered an alabaster hood merged with a delicately layered, ivory cloak that gave him a spectral demeanor. As his large, gruff hands reached out on either side of the smaller dome, his eyes turned upward and narrowed at the sight of another stepping into the glare of the device.

The other being was somewhat similar, but arguably far younger. Raven hair cut short and groomed with care, this man seemed nothing less than resplendent. His own cloak was fashioned in a manner akin to the older, yet he lacked the same intimidation with which his overt senior wore the piece. His pale eyes glistened in anticipation as he approached the bisected globe.

As the elder one turned to look off into the distance, the faint figures of many more began to shimmer into existence, each one wearing towering mantles congruent to those now being worn by the two poised in the center. When the process of their arrival was complete, the elder gazed out among them, and all of them bowed candidly before composing themselves to witness this auspicious moment.

"To the foundation of a legacy," the patriarch began in his own eloquent tongue. "This body is not to perish, but survive. I have come a long way to this world, bringing each of you to paradise. All of you I have protected, as those of my own flesh. As you stand today to witness my departure, know that I have chosen not to leave any of you for eternity."

That was when he turned and beheld the younger man standing across from him. "I will forever live as part of my son... Enlil."

Among the crowd stood a certain figure that remained distant from the rest. He seemed only marginally older than Enlil, and he was undoubtedly a man of some prestige, much as the others. Unlike many, however, he wore a golden brace on both his wrists. As the proceedings took place, he glowered at the proud man. To the adroit eye, there was no doubt that this was Enki, the one who watched his beloved friend and brother-in-spirit die under the heartless purview of Enlil.

"To Enlil, I bestow my possessions and the secrets I have found." He gently reached forward and took Enlil by the hands, holding them just beyond the surface of the dome. "All of my children will bow to you, Enlil. Lead them with wisdom, and let not one stray from my path."

Through an obscure smirk, the young one answered, "As my father wills."

"So shall it be," the graying Anu brought the ceremony to a final culmination of all the ritual and prescience thus far. "Peta babkama luruba anaku!"

As soon as he finished, Anu brought the boy's hands to bear on the sphere, which reacted with a shrill screech and an intense flare. All of the ones present may have been blinded by it, but none dared avert their eyes from the altar. The brittle body of their father was now cast in this magnificent luminescence, and only his grandiose robe fluttered as if in some invisible windstorm. For his part, the one named Enlil merely looked on with an expression of fiendish exuberance. As Enki would later write, "He had tasted the fruit of power - and he would never return."

After the light had subsided within the window from which you view these events, some time had passed. Now, you would be viewing the interior of a majestic room of smooth, blackened metal curved to create the sense of being within the very shape of a human blood cell. Golden light began to glimmer from the floor, wall, and ceiling, creating intricate patterns of lines and circles that would otherwise be alien to you. Dark surfaces akin to counters rounded the perimeter of the room, all containing scattered remnants of exotic tools and samples never seen by the human eye.

Now, standing in the middle of it, was the man that had reluctantly participated in the previous liturgy. Kept busy by the prospect of a new discovery, Enki worked tirelessly into the dawn of each day, ignorant of the passing of time. Nothing about his people mattered to him anymore; no amount of time could ever erase the grudge he held for the Anunnaki's new leader. As the renowned geneticist grew more frustrated in the process of piecing together another of the accursed illusory devices ordered by Enlil, he slammed a fist into the table.

The images of Enki's thoughts passed across the portal, revealing the traumatic memory in abject detail: the young man begging for rescue as he was strapped to the chrome facade. It wasn't bad enough that Enlil had taken the life of a lad Enki had considered a son, but now he had decreed that the human race was more trouble than they were worth. Enki convinced his brother to wait a week for him to determine an answer to their dilemma; the tau'ri were, after all, reproducing faster than the Anunnaki, and even with the advantage of the Pieces of Eden, Enlil knew they could not all be sustained until the rest of the world had finished terraforming.

Enki was about to lose the very project he had sacrificed his life for - not including the dispiriting sacrifice of Kingu. As upset by the loss of his pupil as he was, Enki had continued his work for many thousands of years. The state of ascension his host's body was in allowed him to live much longer than he could in any Unas - yet that was not a welcoming fact to a man that had outlived the child he had raised.

Yet, all was not lost to him, for he had soon found another, not to replace, but to restore Kingu's memory forever.

"Did you wish to see me?"

A youthful voice spoke out from behind the miserable man that now stood with head bowed over the incomplete Ankh. He chose not to address it at that moment, as he was attempting to regain control over his mind. Recently, he had become subject to these momentary lapses in attention, though they were not to the extent they would be thousands of years from then.

"Father?" The young male's voice called out to him again, slowly tearing him away from his trance. A hand settled on his shoulder, and he cast his scrutiny on the boy, who seemed naught but a little over a third of his age. "Is it the dream again? Has it taken you?"

With a distinctly soft smile, Enki spoke. "Do not trouble yourself on such matters, Ninurta. Come, tell me what has become of your journey. Did you retrieve the tablet as I instructed?"

"Yes, but," the lad replied skeptically. "Why did you wish me to bring it to you? Is it not the property of our lord, Enlil?"

"Not anymore." Enki ushered his young progeny to the side, where a strange, elliptical capsule stood. The container consisted of two curved covers that could be pulled away from the center to open. With merely a wave of his hand over the top of the container, both covers opened and allowed him access to that which was contained inside. Not even having to bend down to reach, Enki retrieved an object that would be familiar to the young man.

"Is that the Tablet?!" Ninurta exclaimed as Enki held it in front of him. "But how?!"

"What have I taught you regarding assumptions, my son?" Enki didn't give him a chance to respond with the same recitation he was forced to repeat every day he worked with his father. "This is merely a clever charade designed to emulate that which portends the future. Even so, it may have the same conclusions as the true tablet. I would not want Enlil to doubt its ability.

"Now, hand me the Tablet of Destinies, so that I might prevent my brother from taking advantage of my creations again."

Ninurta hastened to obey his superior, raising the tablet from within a fold of his robe. He paused to inspect it thoughtfully, as if wondering if he was making the right decision; yet, moments later, he set the device in his father's hand and took the counterfeit in its place.

Barely giving Ninurta a glance, Enki instructed, "Take the copy to Enlil and tell him it is genuine."

Since Enlil took Ninurta from him, Enki knew that Enlil was attempting to replace him with one under his command; that was the only reason Enlil adopted Ninurta as a son, after stealing him from Enki. As Ninurta was the the most prominent son between Enki and Nintu, Enlil knew he would grow to become as brilliant as his father. Hoping to prevent young Ninurta from coming under the influence of Enki's antisocial ways, Enlil had Nintu killed for the sake of Enki's tau'ri experiments, before having Ninurta brought to his court and fashioned as one of his own sons.

All that Enlil had taken from Enki was merely turning the otherwise kindly figure into a self-centered, paranoid shell of what he used to be. At every death or loss of a loved one, Enki became more and more convinced that Enlil was his greatest enemy. Nothing would stop him from one day dealing with Enlil once and for all. After all, the blood of his beloved ones cried out for vengeance, and one day, he would have it. All of that passed through Enki's mind as two transparent, cylindrical columns raised from the floor in the center of the room, revealing solitary human figures in stasis amidst the shrouds of the milky liquid they were contained in:

"Adapa. Eva. All hope rests with you."

This is where the image grows dark and does not come to life again, signifying the end of the tale.


End file.
